


I never was smart with love.

by thecrackshiplollipop



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-14
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecrackshiplollipop/pseuds/thecrackshiplollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana is too drunk to drive home after Rachel's house party so she begrudgingly stays the night. Lesbian hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I never was smart with love.

She chalks it up to one-too-many cocktails, a two hour crying jag, and the fact that Rachel Berry's chosen sleep bottoms amount to about seven inches of hot pink material in the form of boy shorts. Also, the dwarf is wearing a tank top that is clearly too small and since when did Berry have such nice tits?

Santana's lucky that her complexion hides blushes because there is definitely heat creeping up her neck and cheeks as she watches Rachel and Tina jump around singing "Heaven is a Place on Earth".

"I'm blaming it on the alcohol," she mutters, because she isn't blaming it on the fact that Rachel's underwear cups her ass in a way that Santana had only seen in the Victoria's Secret catalogue. And that had been _photoshop_. And she's _definitely_  not blaming it on the fact that she hasn't stopped staring at Rachel since the she'd re-emerged from her bedroom in her "pyjamas" after the boys had left.

Only hot girls are supposed to wear skimpy underwear as pyjamas.

"Hm?" Rachel bounces in front of Santana, who's sitting cross-legged on the floor since the god awful room tilts every time she tries to stand. "Uh, nothing, Berry." She tries to muster up her best bitch face, but flounders a bit because that swath of pink material is about six inches from Santana's nose and she can't stop staring. _Blame it on the alcohol_ she chants in her head, feeling a little dizzier than before.

Rachel smells warm, like coconuts and something else. In the back of her head Santana registers that she smells _exactly_ like the suntan oil she uses and it throws her completely off guard. Shouldn't Treasure Trail smell like caves or something? Don't dwarves smell like caves? She's scrambling for an insult but nothing right comes up -  _you smell too nice go away_ just sounds too immature.

"Well," Rachel drops to her knees, her face now level with Santana's, "since you're staying the night, do you want to borrow something of mine to sleep in?" Rachel is talking _way_ too fast, her words spilling out like a Slushie avalanche on the first day of school. Rachel's face is just a few inches from Santana's, her breath smelling like whiskey and wine coolers, and Santana wonders how long she could kiss Rachel before she'd pull away.

Not long enough, she decides, and instead leans back on her palms and fixes her gaze on the pink V of Rachel's underwear. She turns on her default 'cocky bitch' face and shrugs. "I'm good, I'll just sleep in my underwear, too." She says it as sexy as possible, her eyes still a little glazed from all of that tequila. Rachel blushes deeply and licks her lips which makes Santana's stomach drop a little. She's fairly certain whatever pass at 'sexy' drops from her face, too.  _Touché, Berry._

The doorbell rings and Rachel squeals, hopping up and skipping over to Tina who looks more nervous than scared. Santana can vaguely make out Tina urging Rachel to put pants on before they get to the front door.

"Tina is gonna be in so much trouble," Rachel trills when she skips back into the room, her hair in a high ponytail but still,  _no pants_ in sight. "She could not stop giggling. Her dad looked furious! Good thing Mike was already gone..."

"She can deal. C'mere Berry." Santana waves her over to the couch and pats the cushion next to her. Rachel skips over, her ponytail bouncing against the nape of her neck. Instead of sitting as Santana had indicated, she stands in front of her, legs spread, and hands on her hips. Wonder Woman stance. " _You_ are sobering up, Santana Lopez." Rachel's eyes glimmer in the basement's stage lighting, her lips curving into a smirk.

"Well then, we'll just have to fix that." Santana is up in a flash, dipping around Rachel and across to the Berry family bar. Most of the good liquor is gone, a few bottles clanking softly as Santana pokes around. She finally straightens with a half-filled bottle of whiskey in her hand and a not-so-typical grin on her face. "And the party continues," she unscrews the cap and takes a long drink.

Rachel walks over and leans on the bar top, swiping at the bottle in Santana's hand. "You could _ask._ You really want more?" Rachel pouts and Santana shrugs, handing the bottle over with her brows raised.

"Well, I did have a lot of fun at the party and… I don't know, I just don't want it to stop yet… The fun, I mean." Rachel frowns at the bottle's label, a little seriously, and takes a small sip of the whiskey.

Santana has to admit, once unleashed, Rachel has a serious knack for partying. Rachel manages to keep pace with Santana, polishing off half the remaining bottle of whiskey on her own. Santana makes a mental note that for Rachel, whiskey does wonders whereas tequila does... well, karaoke. Rachel _does_ get the giggles somewhere after her second swig but Santana can ignore that because she's dancing around in those little boy shorts and her ass is kind of insane.  Like, why doesn't she _ever_ wear jeans, because she has a serious jeans-wearing ass. 

Santana gets brave after the whiskey is gone. Rachel is moving slowly and her skin is just a little slick with sweat because booze and the room is warm with all the lights on. Santana gets up and sidles up to her, keeping a distance so that only her hands and knees graze the other girl occasionally. The second time her fingertips graze Rachel's hip, Rachel grabs Santana by the waist and pulls her closer until she can slip her knee in between Santana's thighs. Santana is tall enough so that Rachel settles against Santana's thigh easily. Rachel is smirking and Santana's mouth is hanging open just a little and her face is too hot to just blame it on the alcohol.

Santana drops her hands to Rachel's sides and grips her hips tightly. "What is up with you, Berry?" It's rhetorical, because she doesn't fucking care what's up with her. Plus, she stopped paying attention because her eyes are travelling down the length of Rachel's front and are boring holes into the place where Rachel's underwear stop and her own tanned thigh begins. She finds it immensely difficult to wrap her brain around the fact that Rachel _fucking_ Berry is straddling her thigh. Not _just_  straddling her thigh but, the heat between her legs is pressing into Santana's skin and the thin material of her underwear is just slightly wet.

"Dancing," Rachel murmurs and rolls her hips to the beat of the Daft Punk CD that Tina forgot to take home. Santana bites her lip, glancing from Rachel's face back to her, uh, hips and rolls her thigh in opposition to Rachel's movements. She tries her best to make it look like dancing by swishing her hips around a little half-heartedly, but she's focusing all of her energy on moving her thigh against that wet spot between Rachel's legs.

"This isn't how normal people dance, b." Santana strokes her fingers under Rachel's tank top and drags her nails up to Rachel's waist. Rachel whimpers softly and presses against Santana's leg with a little more urgency. Rachel's eyes are a little hazy as she drapes her arms over Santana's shoulders and cautiously twines her fingers in her hair.

Santana opens her mouth to say something but quickly decides against that course of action and starts moving her thigh against Rachel, dropping any pretence of dancing that she was holding onto before. Fuck it, she's actively trying to get Berry worked up.

She flushes attractively and Santana smirks, digging her nails into Rachel's side. Her breath hitches and she grinds against Santana's thigh in time with the music's beat. Watching the change in Rachel's face when she can feel her getting wetter against her thigh Santana has to swallow a moan and bites the inside of her cheek. Rachel's lips are just slightly parted and a sharp gasp slips out every time Santana's thigh rolls over Rachel's clit. Rachel bites her lip and whimpers frustratedly, rolling her hips harder.

"What is it, Rachel?" Santana drawls tracing her nails in a torturous line down her sides.

"Th…that feels… good," she chokes out and grinds against Santana's thigh a little more brazenly.

"Good," Santana smiles slowly and roughly jerks her thigh against Rachel, "I _want_ you to feel good," she purrs and leans her body closer to Rachel's, sliding her thigh against her sex as she moves forward. She moves like this a few times, her thigh dragging a teasing path back and forth across Rachel's clothed pussy.

It's in that moment that Santana decides that Rachel Berry looks really good on the verge of an orgasm and that she's about 98% sure she'd look even better when she's actually orgasming. Experimentally, she twitches her thigh up against Rachel's clit and watches as her back arches and she hisses in surprise. _Definitely hot_. She slides her hands around Rachel's hips and cradles her at the small of her back. Holding her hands splayed against Rachel's back, she rocks her against her thigh slowly. Each time Rachel moans, Santana rewards her by rocking faster.

"Fuck, Rach, you're so wet." Santana groans and rolls her thigh from side to side, pulling Rachel against her roughly.

"I've never…" Rachel trails off and groans, keening forward so her clit presses firmly against Santana. She grins and slips her hands down from Rachel's lower back to cup her ass and squeeze.

"Never, what? Let someone else get you off?"

"N-no." Santana clicks her tongue and shakes her head so the ends of her hair dance across the exposed skin of Rachel's chest. Rachel gasps softly and reaches up, gripping Santana's upper arms lightly. "Oh _god_ Santana, I'm so fucking close."

She can practically feel Rachel pulsing against her thigh and it's making Santana a little weak-kneed because, yeah, like that was anywhere near the realm of "things that get Santana off" before tonight. "Rach, fuck, _come_  for me." She leans in close enough so her lips press against Rachel's ear, her voice is dark and serious and completely predatory and it makes Rachel shudder, her fingers disentangling from Santana's hair and digging into her shoulders through the thin fabric of her dress.

Rachel is _definitely_ hot when she comes. Santana full-on marvels as Rachel's whole body goes rigid and she arches away from Santana. She's biting her lip to stifle a cry and Santana holds her firmly to her thigh as the her hips buck wildly and she pitches back further, almost knocking them off of balance.

 _Fuck_ , Santana shuts her eyes tightly because Rachel's mouth falls open a little and she's breathing heavily and it's so ... hot that it takes a good amount of Santana's threadbare willpower to keep her hands firmly on Rachel's ass and hold her steady.

"I..." Rachel shakes her head and simply stares at Santana, a question forming in her glazed over eyes.

"Yeah?" Santana doesn't dare move an inch, her thigh and hands still supporting the majority of Rachel's weight.

"That was... new." She exhales slowly and slumps forward into Santana, causing her to cant backwards slightly.

"Whoa there Berry," Santana steadies Rachel and slowly pulls away so there's a little breathing room between them again. For a moment, Santana's eyes soften and she traces the backs of her knuckles along Rachel's jawline before she pulls away and walks back to the couch. As she flops down on the couch she takes a deep breath, composing herself because getting Berry off should not involve emotions or feelings or anything like that, the usual reminder that stopped working with Brittany ages ago. 

Rachel's just Rachel, and there's nothing there. It's just the liquor making her soften at the edges.  _Blame it on the alcohol_.

"Come here," she leans forward on the couch, her eyes impossibly dark and an indescribable look on her face. Rachel moves to stand in front of her and this time Santana openly looks her over, eyes pausing on her chest. "I want this off," she tugs at the hem of Rachel's tank top and sits back, draping her arms across the back of the couch. She locks eyes with Rachel stoppering any protests she could imagine.

She's not terribly graceful about it, the back snags on her ponytail and her elbow gets stuck in that awkward way when the material is a little too tight. Once she gets the tank top off she tosses it into Santana's face with a little giggle. While Santana is wrestling the tank top off of her face Rachel slips forward and straddles her lap.

"I really liked that," Rachel brushes her fingers down Santana's neck and drags her fingers down the sleeve of her dress.

"It was... different," Santana concedes because she honestly has no clue how to feel about the fact that she just got... _Rachel Berry_  to rub one out on her thigh. She smiles just a little because Rachel actually looks really pretty in the stage lighting and her eyes are half-lidded in that 'I came so hard' way that always gets Santana wet. In that moment she has a hard time imagining ever looking at Rachel in the same way, that she'll ever be honest when she calls her Dwarf or Man Hands. And her tits, goddamn they're right there and fully tanned and her nipples are hard despite the fact that it has to be 95 degrees in this fucking circus tent of a basement.

"I always knew you had a thing for girls, Santana," Rachel practically purrs her name and slides her hips up Santana's lap until she's pressing herself against Santana's stomach. Rachel smirks triumphantly as Santana bites her lip.

"It's, you know, not just a... a... thing," Santana stutters and tries to re-focus by running her warm palms up the flat plane of Rachel's stomach and lightly cups her bare breasts. "I'm like ... gay. And so help me god if you tell _anyone_ I will-" The words billow out and hang in the air, and Santana focus on Rachel's face, waiting for some kind of reaction or realisation, but Rachel just nods and bites down on her lower lip because Santana has one of her nipples between her fingers. It's the most ridiculous ridiculous thing ever to confess when they're halfway to having _more_ sex but it feels kind of right. Santana leans forward and kisses at the hollow of Rachel's throat. Rachel sighs and Santana smiles against her skin before trailing feather-light kisses down Rachel's sternum and across her breast. She gently nips along the swell of flesh and darts her tongue out quickly gently brushing her nipple.

She can actually feel Rachel processing the newest sensation as her body goes rigid and her breath stops short in her chest. It's like the calm before one of Rachel's long monologues. "You okay, Rachel?" She keeps her lips hovering millimetres from Rachel's skin and gazes up through her eyelashes.

"I uh... yeah, I just really like that." Rachel bites her lip and it takes monumental effort for Santana to hold in a moan because goddamn, Rachel is so good at making that look anything but innocent. _How the hell did I not get on this before?_  

Santana slowly rolls the tip of her tongue around Rachel's nipple and pulls back, quickly blowing a jet of cold air against the damp skin. Rachel hisses and presses her hips more firmly against Santana's stomach. Santana smirks and closes her mouth around the peak of flesh, her hands resting on Rachel's ass, holding the other girl's body firmly against her. Rachel grips Santana's hair for leverage and groans as she switches to her other nipple, grazing the sharp edges of her teeth against the skin.

"Oh fuck!" Rachel jerks her hips against Santana involuntarily. Santana smirks and sits back, covering both of Rachel's tits with her hands as she looks Rachel over appraisingly.

"Want more?" Santana asks simply, stroking the sensitive skin of Rachel's breasts before trailing her fingers down, down until she hits the waistband of Rachel's underwear.

"Y-yes." She's not surprised, Rachel was basically humping her stomach, and it's not like Santana's a one and done kind of girl, anyway. She slides her hands down to the inside of Rachel's thighs and grips them tightly.

"Yes, what?"

"I want you to fuck me." Santana almost loses her cool. It's completely unexpected from Rachel - hell, the whole situation is unexpected, but _that?_  That sentence with the open needy tone in Rachel's voice will _never_ leave her mind now.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Santana says as calmly as possible, exhaling slowly as she wraps her arms around Rachel and moves both of them so Rachel's lying on her back on the couch and Santana is kneeling between her legs. Rachel reaches down and hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear, but Santana swats her fingers away and shakes her head.

"Why?" Rachel's expression settles in a way that reminds Santana of that loud, obnoxious girl she calls Treasure Trail and she briefly wonders exactly how hard it's going to be to look at Rachel in school and not see this girl that she's made come so hard she left the hem of her dress wet. It's like, everything Rachel does is going to remind her of this exact moment, their bodies so close Santana can feel the heat from Rachel's skin. Glee Club is going to be a whole new level of torture.

"I like 'em," Santana shrugs and runs her thumb across the damp material covering Rachel's pussy. She can feel the blazing heat there and _oh my god, she is so wet_. She presses lightly, finding Rachel's clit beneath the thin material and rolling it against the pad of her thumb in a way that makes Rachel squirm and whine softly. Santana smirks and pushes Rachel's underwear to the side and ghosts the backs of two fingers against her. Rachel groans and flicks her hips against Santana's fingers.

"Please," she moans. Santana slides her fingers down and holds them against her opening, her thumb held a cruelly teasing distance away from Rachel's clit.

"Please. What." The words drop out of Santana's mouth with a little more bite than she'd intended, but she's satisfied with Rachel's blush and the flustered way she gnaws on her lower lip. She leans over Rachel's prone, half-naked body and places her free hand on the couch next to her head so she can stare directly down into Rachel's eyes.

"I ... I want it." She draws out the emphasis on _it_ , her eyes darting down to Santana's hand held stock still against her. "I want you." She watches Santana's face for a reaction and smiles slightly at the fact that Santana's jaw has dropped and she looks incredibly flustered.

She regains her composure quickly, pressing two fingers against Rachel before pausing, "are you...?"

"Ugh," Rachel groans, flailing her arms a bit in typical Rachel exasperation, "I masturbate regularly." She tugs on Santana's waist as if to remind her of what's happening. Santana worries her bottom lip between her teeth and gently pushes into Rachel with one finger. Rachel gasps and Santana tries to beat back her own arousal. It doesn't work because Rachel twists and her muscles clench around Santana's finger and it might just be one of the hottest things Santana has experienced in a while.

"Holy fuck." Santana gasps and shifts her body against her hand and cants her hips so she pushes deeper into Rachel with the slightest movement. Rachel lets out a barely audible curse and experimentally rolls her hips against the unfamiliar feeling of Santana's fingers inside of her. Santana groans when Rachel's movement forces the back of her hand against herself. "Can I er... more?" Santana is flushed and losing the cool cover fast. Rachel just laughs breathlessly and nods, her cheeks flaming red.

Santana has done a lot of things but even she has to admit that Berry is a damn quick learner. After adjusting to Santana's second finger, she's fucking Santana's hand like she's been at it for years. As a matter of pride Santana takes it as a challenge to show Rachel just how good _she_ is. Santana curls her fingers and strokes inside Rachel until she grazes a spot that causes her whole body to tense and a strangled moan to slip out. Santana grins triumphantly, stroking the pads of her fingertips across Rachel's g-spot to elicit more noises.

"Jesus fuck." Rachel hisses when Santana slides her thumb across her clit, gently grazing with her nail. Santana wants to make some joke about Jesus but she forgets it when Rachel arches her hips into Santana's hand with a little more force, pushing the back of Santana's hand against her cunt through the barrier of her dress.

"Oh god," Santana moans and thrusts her hips, forcing her fingers deeper. Rachel rocks her hips, her muscles pulsing around Santana's fingers tightly. With each movement, Santana feels that familiar knot tighten low in her abdomen and at this point her panties are beyond destroyed. She shuts her eyes and lets the feeling of Rachel's tight pussy wrapping around her fingers and her hand grinding into her own clit overwhelm her.

"S-tana," Rachel's breath is hot and whiskey-sweetened on Santana's face and she can feel how near Rachel's lips are to her own. To Rachel, the desire etched on Santana's face is plain as day, so she closes the distance between them and presses a cautious kiss to Santana's lips. She holds still, lips held chastely against Santana's as she waits for her to process the latest development.

Santana's eyes are open in a flash but, before the she has a chance to think about pulling away, Rachel moves a hand up through Santana's hair and knots her fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck and holds her close.

"Berry..." Santana mumbles against Rachel's parted lips.

"Just go with it, _Lopez._ " She says Santana's last name like a challenge and nips at Santana's lower lip, rolling her hips against Santana's hand as if to remind her that they're doing a lot more than kissing. Santana caves easily but only because she can still feel the dull pulse of alcohol coursing through her veins and because Rachel's lips are _really_ soft.

She leans into the kiss with her whole body, grinding her hips against her hand and pressing the rest of her body into Rachel. Rachel kisses in a way that pulls at the knot in Santana's stomach and makes the growing heat between her legs increase. _Kisses can't get you off, can they?_ Her mind whirls, but her question is answered when she feels Rachel's tongue flicker against her own and her hips jerk hard against her hand, sending shockwaves of pleasure across her body.

Santana twists her fingers inside Rachel, dragging them up against her g-spot while rolling her thumb across her clit in a sloppy rhythm. Rachel's so wet it's almost too easy to slide a third finger in, Santana moans against Rachel's mouth when she feels Rachel tense, her muscles squeezing Santana's fingers.

"Relax," Santana murmurs, wiggling her fingers gently. Rachel lets out a little noise of protest, but Santana feels the tension relax from her body anyway. She grins and drops all pretence of teasing the orgasm out of Rachel; she rubs her fingers inside Rachel and, placing her palm flat against Rachel's clit, she drops the pretense of teasing the orgasm out of Berry and full-on fucks her. Rachel's slides her hands down Santana's back and tugs at the waistline of her dress, pulling the hem up sharply so the back of Santana's hand is now pressing against her own sex. Santana growls softly and skims her lips down the straining rope of muscle in Rachel's neck, pausing to close her mouth over Rachel's erratic pulse and suck hard.

"But I-" Santana cuts her off with a sharp thrust of her hips and bites over the pale red stain she's already left because she _needs_ to mark Rachel with a purple bruise that she won't be able to hide with a scarf on Monday. Rachel shudders and strains her hips again, crushing against Santana until their hips are almost touching despite the presence of Santana's hand. The friction it's creating for Santana is immense and she feels a very familiar sensation spreading like fire outwards from her clit. She can feel Rachel's muscles working around her fingers and knows that it won't take long for Rachel to lose the last threads of control, so she finally lets herself feel the pleasure she's been shoving aside since Rachel straddled her thigh on the dance floor. She twists her fingers expertly, her palm rolling against Rachel's clit and her own hips grinding her own arousal against the back of her hand with more intensity.

"Please," Rachel begs and gasps, "don't stop."

"Like I would," Santana bites her skin and glances up. Rachel's face is a mask of concentration, eyebrows pulled together, lips drawn into a thin line. "Just let go, Rachel," the command is soft and gentle, unlike everything else, and Santana soothes the most recent bite mark with her tongue. It takes one more slow thrust of Santana's hips for Rachel to come, her muscles convulsing around Santana's fingers and hips straining at an almost-painful angle. Santana groans, Rachel's hips forcing her hand against her own clit with just the right pressure to set off her own orgasm. Santana manages to keep her fingers moving in Rachel, pulling out her orgasm so that her moans are loud enough to drown out the music that's still playing.

Before Rachel even has time to recover, Santana is snaking down her body and running her lips lightly over Rachel's sweat-slicked skin causing her to twitch and arch against Santana's unmoving hand. She pauses to trail her tongue around one of Rachel's nipples before continuing down and slipping her arms around Rachel's thighs. Rachel lets out a nervous giggle and moves to tangle her fingers in Santana's hair, gently pulling at the dark headband.

"I like your headband."

"What?" Santana glances up, her mouth hovering just above Rachel's pink underwear.

"Um, your headband..." she trails off and tosses the accessory onto the floor, "nevermind." Rachel exhales shakily.

"Rachel Berry, are you nervous?" Santana lightly grazes her lips over Rachel's clothed pussy.

"N-n... oh! no," Rachel shivers and tries to regulate her breathing, desperately trying to calm herself down since her whole body is still buzzing. She frantically tries to focus on anything other than Santana's mouth but her lips are applying the lightest amount of pressure over her clit.

"Oh, okay, good." Santana smirks, a motion that Rachel can actually feel against her, and runs her tongue down the drenched pink material before sucking as hard as she can over Rachel's clit.

"FUCK." Rachel arches her back as another orgasm hits her, but Santana digs her fingernails into Rachel's thighs and holds her down. It feels like forever before Rachel comes down, time stretching like taffy as Santana works her through it. Once Rachel settles down Santana kisses the soaked material gently and stretches up to rest her head on Rachel's stomach.

"Santana?" Rachel's breathing has calmed finally, her fingers playing with a loose strand of Santana's hair.

"Mmm?" Her eyes are half-closed and both of her hands are resting on Rachel's side, stroking the skin in a way that could easily be mistaken for affection.

"I think you're going end up wearing some of my clothes anyway" Rachel yawns and stretches underneath Santana.  

"Mmk..."

"So... we should probably talk abou-"

"No, how about we don't talk," Santana turns her head, resting her chin on Rachel's abs. Shit, she's going to have a hicky on her tit. Santana can't even disguise the fact that she's a little proud. "It was good. Surprisingly good, okay? and I so don't want to lose that buzz, by _talking_ , okay?"

"Fine." Rachel huffs sleepily, clearly still too tipsy and high from coming to care enough to push the topic. Santana's glad, until Rachel looks at her with this coy, flirtatious smile that is completely unlike anything she directs at Finn and it totally shouldn't do anything to Santana, but it makes her whole body throb with renewed want. "Can I ask you something else, then?"

"Sure thing, Berry," Santana yawns and absently traces her thumbs along the sides of Rachel's breasts.

"What do I taste like?"

"Well..." Santana tilts her head and rolls her stomach against Rachel, smirking when she gasps softly, "you taste like pink."

* * *

Santana's brain feels like liquid sloshing around in her head. She has no idea how she can  _still_ be hungover on Monday when that crazy ass party was on Saturday, but there she is, wearing sunglasses inside to dampen the glare of the hallway lights. Brittany seems to be nursing a hangover to a much smaller degree, and Santana would be jealous if she hadn't basically asked for this by downing more whiskey once everyone had left. They've been standing still at their lockers for too long, not talking in a way that's fine and comfortable because Santana's kind of worried if she starts talking she'll tell Brittany about... well. Rachel.

It's almost like Rachel sensed Santana thinking about her, because Santana catches sight of her rounding the corner and Santana barely has time to steel herself before she's there, standing next to them, with unconcealed fury written on her face.

"Hi, Brittany, do you mind?" She says with forced politeness. 

"Mind what?" Brittany tilts her head to the side a little and adjusts her sunglasses. 

"I..." Rachel breathes deeply, shifting from one foot to the other before looking at Santana with a stern expression. "I need to speak with Santana."

"That's alright, we weren't really talking, anyway." Brittany shifts her weight against the door of her locker and watches Rachel, her expression a mask sort of like it always is.

"Uh, no, I meant... alone?" Rachel rubs her forehead and grimaces, like just being under the bright fluorescents is killing her. Santana feels a small pinch of sympathy, but it's easily shoved away for more enjoyable things, like the thrill of watching Rachel squirm. _  
_

"Oh... okay." Brittany shrugs and heads off in the general direction of first period, no trace of her usual bounciness. Santana wants to chase after her, but Rachel is giving her this look that keeps her rooted in place.

"What's up, RuPaul?" Santana leans into her locker and trails her eyes down Rachel's front, noting with some degree of pride that she wasn't able to cover up all of Santana's expertly given hickies. A trail of dark red and purple marks lead down from Rachel's neck into her collar, nothing stage make up couldn't cover but clearly Rachel hadn't had time that morning. She tries not to think about Rachel explaining them to people, though.

"Where are they?" Rachel is practically fuming and Santana arches a brow in response. "You know what I'm talking about, Santana. My –" She glances around nervously and leans in close enough for Santana to feel the heat radiating off of her skin. " _My panties_." She hisses the last word as Artie wheels past them.

"Oh," Santana smirks and straightens up and looks straight down at Rachel, "I'm wearing them."

"Wh- what? Why!" Rachel's body goes rigid and her hands ball into fists, once again flashing Santana a furious glare.

"I wanted a trophy." Santana shrugs and walks by Rachel, her fingers lightly grazing her hip as she does, "if you want them back, you'll have to earn them back." She saunters off to first period leaving Rachel behind to pitch a fit on her own.

Maybe she can't blame it _all_ on the alcohol but she's pretty sure that line between fucking with Rachel and fucking Rachel is going to be a lot of fun to walk.


End file.
